


Secret Santa

by bry0psida



Series: Harringrove Advent [14]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Party, Crushes, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Light Smut, M/M, One Shot, POV Alternating, Romance, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21794167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bry0psida/pseuds/bry0psida
Summary: Steve knows he has feelings. Billy thinks he doesn't. Robin rigs Secret Santa to bring them together.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove
Series: Harringrove Advent [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558885
Comments: 9
Kudos: 164





	Secret Santa

**Author's Note:**

> Character A’s best friend rigs the Secret Santa, because they know Character A has a crush on Character B. [Prompt](https://animationfantic.tumblr.com/post/168040095956/25-days-christmas-romance-challenge)

Robin shakes her bowler hat. The numerous slips of paper inside rustle like leaves. “Secret Santa! Come get your Secret Santa!”

“Who’re you, the town crier?” Billy says whilst taking his apron out of his locker.

“Just trying to bring a little holiday joy to the workforce.”

Billy rolls his eyes at her before stepping out of the staff room. Robin calls after him. “I’ll get you later, Hargrove! Don’t think I won’t!” Billy flips her off. “I know where you work!”

Steve observes their little display with mild amusement. He decides to humor her.

“So everyone’s in there?”

“Uh huh.

“What, even the boss?”

“Fuck no.”

Steve reaches into the hat, whines when his hand is slapped away. “What the hell, Robin?”

Robin holds up a finger before rooting around the multicoloured slips of paper, muttering a little _aha!_ When she finds the red one. “Here you go.”

Steve looks between the paper and Robin. “This might be the first time I’ve done this, but I’m pretty sure _I’m_ supposed to choose the slip.”

“You’re right, this is the first time you’ve done this. Now quit whining and read the damn thing.”

Steve sighs dramatically, unfolds the paper at a glacial pace to irritate Robin. Then he reads the name. _Billy Hargrove_. “Oh, for Christ sake.”

Robin’s smile is smug. “Thank me later.”

…

The rest of Steve’s shift is spent pointedly avoiding Billy and trying to decide what to do about Robin’s little prank. Someone will trade with him, surely. The thing is, Steve’s not sure he _wants_ to trade. He knows he should, putting any thought into a gift for his workplace crush is bound to end in total disaster. Steve could get him a gag gift, maybe some booze. Everyone likes booze. Booze doesn’t mean anything.

He’s so wrapped up in thought he butchers two orders, pours water in someone’s lap, drops a plate and trips over his own feet and right into Billy. Steve’s never been so mortified on the job. Billy stabilises him before rushing off to finish whatever he was doing. He’s polite but Steve knows he’s pissed, he’s spent more than enough time overanalysing all things Billy Hargrove to recognise exactly what that lip twitch meant.

His manager sends him home early when he knocks over a whole table.

…

Robin is pestering Billy at his locker. There’s only one slip of paper left in her hat. “Will you just take it?”

Billy closes his locker harder than necessary. Robin doesn’t flinch at the action, nor when Billy glares at her. “You’re not gonna stop bothering me till I take it, are you?”

“Nope.” Robin pops the ‘p’ like she pops her bubblegum. Billy groans, snatches the little blue slip and stuffs it into his pocket. Robin splutters. “You gotta read it!”

Billy shrugs on his jacket. “I’ll read it when I get home.”

“You’re a bastard, Hargrove.”

Billy doesn’t read it when he gets home, reads it instead when he’s on the bus to get home. _Steve Harrington_ , it reads. Billy just shakes his head at the paper. _Of course it’s Harrington_ , he thinks.

He knows exactly why she’s done it. Robin’s got this ridiculous idea in her head that Billy has a crush on Steve. Which he doesn’t. Steve’s hot, sometimes Billy stops what he’s doing and pays a little extra attention when Steve is bending over. It doesn’t mean Billy _likes_ him, just his ass. And his thighs. And his calves.

Billy ponders how to rectify the situation he finds himself in. He could get a gag gift or something to make him laugh, maybe something wildly inappropriate for colleagues to make him blush.

He screws up the piece of paper in his fist, flicks it at one of the rude regulars at the restaurant a few seats down, pulls his scarf up over his nose and stares out the window when she turns in search of the perpetrator.

…

Steve didn’t expect a piece of paper to so thoroughly throw him for a loop. He doesn’t know what the fuck to do. He’s left it too late to trade now, he’s seen multiple coworkers stashing presents in their lockers ahead of time.

His crush has only grown exponentially in the time since Robin gave him that little slip with his name on. Steve’s heard whispers that Billy’s been asking about him, what he likes. Of course Robin rigged it for Billy too. Steve is going to get her back for the seemingly unending practical jokes one of these days. When he’s not obsessing over Billy Hargrove.

As much as Steve likes Billy, he really knows very little about him. They don’t talk much, work is busy enough they don’t often stop to breathe in the same spot and Billy’s pretty quiet. Steve’s reluctant to admit just how much time he’s spent on Billy’s relatively desolate profile on Facebook.

He clearly abandoned the account before moving from Cali to Indiana, like his life just stopped or something. The few pictures on his profile are of him surfing, his guitars, his old car, and a shocking amount of selfies of him at 80’s themed parties.

Steve doesn’t know anything about surfing or guitars or Camaro’s, but he knows the 80’s. Oh boy, does he know the 80’s.

The tagged photos on Billy’s profile leave something to be desired, so Steve peruses the more public profiles on Billy’s friend list. Most of them are duds when it comes to Hargrove content, then he stumbles upon an absolute treasure trove in a profile of a young girl named “Mad” Max Mayfield.

Steve scrolls and scrolls and scrolls until suddenly it’s 2 AM and his eyes are burning like hell itself from staring at his laptop for so long.

The terrible night’s sleep is worth it, though. Steve knows _exactly_ what to get Billy now.

…

Billy doesn’t know what to get Steve. Like, at all. He was planning on getting that stupid pair of sequin booty shorts he saw in Target with SLUT written across the ass, maybe throw in one of those little ‘Grow a Dick, With Water!’ things in. But everyone’s taking Secret Santa, like, weirdly seriously. Maybe it’s a small town thing.

So now Billy’s got to ask around and find out what Steve likes. Billy’s a dick, he knows he’s a dick, but he’s not gonna be the only person who doesn’t take Secret Santa seriously.

Billy really doesn’t know Steve at all. He knows Steve’s friends with Robin, that he’s got great hair, that he’s a customer favourite. It’s interesting to learn more about him. Turns out Steve’s a bit of an 80’s fan, too. Who knew.

Billy isn’t sure when he stops grilling his coworkers for information about what Steve likes and starts asking what he’s like instead. He’s pretty popular with their coworkers. Apparently he’s funny, too. Kind, generous. Good with kids. Fashionable. He sounds like the whole package.

It’s an impulse buy, really. It’s way too expensive a gift for someone Billy doesn’t personally know all that well. But once Billy gets an idea in his head he’s gotta see it through to the end, and the face Steve’s gonna make when he opens Billy’s gift is gonna be too good to pass up on. It’s worth eating ramen for dinner and oatmeal for breakfast for the foreseeable future.

…

“Alright, start feeding me the lights?” Steve asks from atop a rickety stool. Robin does so with an exasperated look on her face.

“If you fall and break something you’ll get no sympathy from me,”

Steve starts draping the lights around the tree. “So who’d you get for Secret Santa?”

“Heather,” Robin says smugly. Steve snorts.

“Of course you got Heather. If we’re both still working here next year, I’m _personally_ guaranteeing you don’t abuse Secret Santa to play matchmaker.”

“You’ll change your mind after tonight,”

“What exactly do you think is gonna happen?”

“It’s obvious. I’ll sweep Heather off her feet-“

“Good luck, she’s taller than you,”

“I _sweep_ Heather off her feet, Billy seduces you and we all get some nookie right in time for Jesus’ birthday.”

Steve drops the lights. “ _What_? Has he talked to you? What did he say? Tell me everything.” Steve’s talking a mile a minute. He’s glad it’s only Robin seeing him this desperate. She hands him back the lights.

“Calm down, Harrington. Might wanna work out some of that nervous energy before he gets here.”

Steve squeaks. “He’s getting here early?”

Robin presses her lips together in a desperate attempt not to laugh at him. Steve appreciates it.

“No, dingus. I just know you. You’ll key yourself up and get all anxious like you do, then self sabotage when the guy actually does come and talk to you. Loosen up, have a drink.”

“Not sure that’s a great idea while I’m up here.”

“ _After_ you climb off the stool of death, obviously. Jeez Steve, anyone ever tell you you’re a himbo?”

Steve laughs at that. They finish decorating the tree without any more incidents and sufficient banter.

With the tree done they get to business. Steve starts setting out all the booze they’re allowed to drink, Robin gets to work vetting everyone over text for their food orders.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“You have Billy’s number?”

“…No?”

“I need to know what he wants to eat and I don’t have a way to get hold of him,”

“Neither do I. Can’t we just wait till he’s here?”

“Guess we’ll have to,”

…

Billy takes his sweet time getting ready. He really should’ve left by now if he wanted to be punctual, so it’s a good thing he doesn’t want to be.

He knows it’s a bit of a cliche nowadays, being fashionably late. Billy’s old fashioned in a lot ways.

Billy buttons his shirt higher than he’s really comfortable with before setting his hair, fusses over his necklaces and rings and earrings. He settles on a slim little silver hoop through his right ear, his favourite pendant and his matching set of silver rings, then he’s out the door with one last spray of cologne, Steve’s gift in hand.

…

Steve is pacing. “He’s not coming.”

The bulk of their coworkers have already arrived. Steve’s been getting steadily more and more anxious with every person that walks through the door who isn’t Billy.

“Maybe his bus was late?”

Steve shakes his head. “Checked the schedules. They’re fine.”

“Maybe he’s sick?”

“It’d be just my luck if he was, god _fucking_ -“

“Woah, woah, woah, Steve,” Robin grabs Steve’s wrists before he can ruin his meticulously styled hair. “Don’t take it out on the hair, it’s not the hair’s fault.”

Steve just sighs.

“Okay, maybe he’s not coming. It’s not ideal but it doesn’t mean anything, right? Maybe he just doesn’t like parties. You can just give him his gift later.”

“No, I can’t.” Steve’s voice is pained.

Robin arches a brow. “Does it have an after Christmas expiry date or something?”

“It has an expires in exactly one week date. Sort of.”

“What exactly did you get him?”

“I’m not gonna tell you if he doesn’t show up!”

“…Steve, what did you do?”

“I may have went a little overboard.”

“How overboard are we talking?”

“…Pretty overboard.”

…

It’s the first work related party Billy’s ever bothered showing up to. He’s the last to arrive and the party’s already in full swing. Thankfully it’s warm inside. Billy relishes the opportunity to unbutton his shirt more than’s probably appropriate for a work party.

The restaurant actually looks pretty nice with all the lights and decorations up. Not that it looks crap the rest of the time. It just looks different. Better.

Steve’s clearly been left in charge of the playlist because Billy’s been here two minutes and he’s already heard the end of one 80’s Christmas song and the start of another.

Billy leaves Steve’s present under the tree with everyone else’s before making a beeline for the bar. He throws back a shot and starts nursing a beer to catch up with everyone else.

“Didn’t think you’d show,” Robin says.

Billy tips the bottle of Corona at her in greeting. “You know me, always fashionably late.”

“That you are,” Robin hops up on a barstool next to him. “You bring your present?”

“It’s under the tree. You bring yours?”

“Secret Santa was my idea, of course I brought mine.”

Billy takes a sip. “So when do we do presents?”

“After we’ve eaten,”

“Oh good, I didn’t miss the food. What’s on the menu?”

Robin reaches over the bar for the work laptop, slides it across the bar to Billy. “We order a bunch of takeout, so whatever you want.”

Billy scrolls the exorbitant order on Uber Eats. “Why haven’t you confirmed the order yet?”

Robin blinks. “We were waiting for you.” Billy wasn’t expecting that. Wasn’t expecting that at all. He hides the little surge of emotion with another swig of beer he doesn’t really like. Billy sees her smiling in his peripheral vision. Nothing gets past her.

Billy hurries up and picks something so they don’t need to wait any longer, hands the laptop back to Robin. She sets it down by the cash register and hops off the barstool. “You should get out of your head for once Billy, mingle, live a little. You don’t have to be so lonely all the time, you know?” Robin tilts her head a little on the last line before Heather grabs her by the hand and drags her off to dance. Billy smiles after them.

Steve makes an appearance. Or more accurately, his _hair_ makes an appearance before he does. It’s the biggest Billy’s seen it, curling around his ears and sweeping away from his face. A single strand falls and curls in on itself over his forehead. Billy wants to wrap it round his finger.

The song changes to Rock And Roll Christmas by George Thorogod & The Destroyers and the atmosphere becomes even more lively. Steve opens his mouth wide in excitement, shrugs off his denim jacket, throws it onto an empty table and, much to Billy’s surprise, starts honest to god _swing dancing_.

The staff clear a circle so Steve can really have at it. He alternates partners, spinning one girl out as another one is spun in. Billy feels the absurd impulse to offer himself up, let Steve manhandle his body into moving the way he wants till Billy’s dizzy with it. Billy’s leather pants grow significantly tighter. He quickly crosses his legs and arranges his hands in his lap to cover his spontaneous erection. _Can’t believe I popped a boner while watching fucking swing dancing_ , he thinks.

The song ends. Billy watches Steve tap Robin on the shoulder, cup his hands round her ear. Robin turns and points at Billy, and Steve breaks out in the widest smile Billy’s ever seen on him. His heart beats a little faster.

Steve waves at him enthusiastically, starts gently elbowing his way past people to get to him. Billy wills his boner away with no luck whatsoever.

“You came!” Steve exclaims.

Billy quietly delights in Steve’s enthusiastic greeting. “I came.”

“I was sure you weren’t coming,” Steve’s a little out of breath, Billy can see some sweat beading on his upper lip. Billy wants to lick it. His dick twitches.

“Gotta keep up the reputation, you know?”

“Of being late?” Billy nods. Steve huffs in amusement and settles on the stool Robin previously occupied. “You bring my present?”

“Uh huh.” Billy started to regret the gesture on the bus over. It’s too much. It’s way too much for some pretty boy he’s known less than three months.

If Steve picks up on the sudden change of atmosphere he doesn’t comment on it. “Did you order?”

“I did,”

“What’d you get?”

“Don’t laugh,”

“I’d never,”

“…Burger King.”

Steve laughs. “Seriously?” Billy nods again. Steve tries to collect himself. “No judgement, just surprised. Why fast food?”

“It’s my cheat day! I wanted something dirty.”

“And the most satisfying option you could come up with was Burger King,”

“Maybe,”

“I think it’s a yes or no question, Bill.” It’s been a long while since Billy heard his name shortened like that. It startles him a little. Seems to startle Steve, too. Billy can see the doubt creeping into Steve’s expression. “Was that okay? I shouldn’t have called you that without checking.”

“No, no, it’s…it’s fine. Been a while since someone called me that. Usually I don’t like it.” Steve’s doubt quickly begins to shift into low grade panic. “I like it when you say it, though.” And then Steve’s blushing. Billy makes a mental note to fluster Steve more often.

“You, uh, you, so, Burger King?” Billy gives Steve his out.

“I felt shitty about being late when Robin told me you’d held the food order, so I just picked something that would be quick. And I’m on a bit of a budget.” _That_ was more than Billy was planning to share. Steve doesn’t ask.

“Oh don’t be, it’s given everyone a chance to get a little more trashed than usual.”

Billy isn’t sure what else to talk about, so he offers Steve a drink. Steve accepts, asks for a root beer. “You don’t want something stronger?” Billy stands, completely forgetting he’s still at half mast.

“I’m dri- _driving_ ,” Steve chokes on his own spit. He’s staring at straight at Billy’s dick, no doubt about it. Billy would be embarrassed if Steve’s jaw hadn’t literally dropped open. Billy takes a risk, gently closes it with his hand, takes Steve’s chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“One root beer coming right up,” He says. Steve audibly swallows. Billy’s ego swells.

Steve’s watching Billy move like a hawk. Billy can’t seem to find a bottle opener so he shows off a little, bites the cap off with his teeth, takes a sip of Steve’s beer, licks his lips as he hands over the bottle.

Steve’s mouth is open in a little o shape. Billy tries to not let his imagination run wild or he’ll never get rid this of this damn boner.

A chorus of cheers erupts from across the floor, the food has finally arrived. _Thank Christ_ , Billy thinks.

…

 _Oh thank god_ , Steve thinks. Food’s here, he can finally escape Billy’s lascivious behaviour. Steve practically runs to the front of the restaurant, desperate to get away from the flirting before he does something stupid like kiss Billy.

Billy’s shameless. He’s a flirt. He flirts with everyone. It doesn’t mean anything. Steve’s popped more than his fair share of inopportune stiffies himself, so that doesn’t mean anything either.

Steve tries to not be too disappointed with himself or the turn his thoughts have taken, focuses on tracking down his chinese food instead.

He sits at one of the empty tables off in a corner. Robin’ll join him. Or she won’t. She’ll probably sit at one of the two seaters with Heather where they can flirt without interruption. Steve’s fine eating alone.

“You forgot this,” Billy says. Steve’s mid noodle slurp as he looks up at Billy in all his glory. There’s a light flush on his chest, Steve’s pretty sure he’s undone a couple more buttons. Steve reaches for the bottle Billy’s holding out to him like an idiot, noodles still hanging.

Billy chuckles a little, gestures at the empty seats around the table. “Any of these taken?”

 _Obviously not_ , Steve wants to snap. He doesn’t, instead he finishes his noodles and shakes his head no. Billy sits opposite him, starts unwrapping his food and arranging it on a plate.

Steve pops a dumpling in his mouth. “I never learned how to use chopsticks,” Billy says. “Maybe you could teach me.”

Steve roots around in the little paper bag his food came in, pulls out a second pair of chopsticks, slides them across the table. “No time like the present.” Billy picks the sticks up, breaks them in two. “You right or left handed?”

“Left.”

“Alright, so you wanna take one stick and like, place it at the base of your thumb, so about half of it is resting on your ring finger. Then rest your thumb over the top of the stick so it doesn’t move.” Steve demonstrates. Billy copies him.

“Like this?”

“Just like that. Now grab the other stick and hold it between your thumb and index finger, so it presses against your middle finger.”

Billy fumbles for a moment, he’s got the tip of his thumb on the stick and it’s wedged too far between the middle and index and it’s positioned way higher than the bottom stick. Steve’s trying to explain and Billy’s fumbling and Steve knows he shouldn’t get ahead of himself but Billy’s getting flustered in a bad way and Steve doesn’t want him to feel like that, so he plops himself in the chair beside Billy’s and intervenes.

“You gotta…” Steve repositions the chopsticks so they’re parallel and the top rests against the pad of Billy’s thumb instead of the tip and rests against the side of his middle finger instead of between it and the index. Steve manipulates Billy’s hand so the sticks move. “It’s considered impolite in a few countries for the bottom or top of the sticks to cross, but this is Indiana and you’ve never done this before so it doesn’t really matter.”

Billy’s being very quiet. Steve reaches for his bowl of shrimp. Billy looks at him. “Go ahead, try it.” Steve says.

Steve watches the flush on his chest creep up his neck and face, a smooth wave of pink. It’s beautiful against his red shirt. Billy manages to pick up the shrimp, dip it in the sauce and get it into his mouth without incident. Steve watches the bob of his throat, feels his mouth water. Billy picks up another piece of shrimp, dips it and turns to Steve. “May I?”

 _Holy fuck_ , Steve thinks. _Holy mother of fuck_. “Yes,” he breathes. Billy maintains eye contact as he feeds Steve. The loud crunch of Steve chewing the shrimp is a little awkward but Billy doesn’t seem to mind. Steve swallows. “You got a little, uh…” Billy reaches with his left thumb, swipes it along the edge of Steve’s mouth. “Sauce.” Then he honest to god licks it off his thumb around a smile. Steve’s rock hard and he can’t stop himself from leaning in. Much to his relief, Billy leans in too.

Their lips are about a millimetre apart when Robin yells. “Presents!” Billy and Steve flinch apart. Steve’s going to kill Robin. Billy laughs in that way he alway does, husky and breathless. A cacophony of ‘I’m not finished yet!’ and ‘What about the food?’ echo around the room. “I don’t give a shit if you’re not done eating yet, it’s gonna take at least ten minutes and we’re already behind schedule. I wanna do the presents now.”

Steve’s glaring at Robin. “We’ll uh, we’ll pick this up later?” Billy asks. Steve nods at him enthusiastically. No, vigorously. Billy laughs, stands.

“You want me to get yours?”

“I uh, kind of left mine at home.”

Billy fetches his present. Steve pretends to be surprised when Billy returns. Billy’s fiddling with the red envelope, it’s the same shade of red as his shirt. “I got this for you on impulse, and I’m a little worried about your reaction.”

“You think I won’t like it?”

“Oh no, you’ll definitely like it. It’s just…” Billy hands the envelope to Steve. “You’ll see when you open it.”

Steve peels the envelope open, careful not to rip the contents. It’s tickets. Two concert tickets. To see his favourite band. Steve tries not to get choked up. “You got me…” He gets choked up. “I can’t believe you got me Tears For Fears tickets.” Steve blinks furiously against the oncoming tears. He’s always been a bit of a crier.

“It’s not too much?”

Steve slips the tickets back in the envelope before pulling Billy into a tight hug. “Not at all,” he breathes. “Thank you.”

Billy pulls away first, looks around. “I wonder who got me.”

“I might have,”

Billy smirks at him. “Lookin’ for an excuse to ask me over, Harrington?”

“No no no, it’s just. It’s too big.”

“Too big?”

“Yeah,”

“Then how am I supposed to get it home?”

“You’ll see,”

…

They finish their food and Billy gets a little drunk and dances with Steve a lot dirtier than the song calls for. They decide to call it a night around ten. Billy follows Steve to the car, takes his hand halfway between the restaurant and the parking lot. Steve squeezes, and Billy squeezes back.

It’s a short, quiet drive to Steve’s apartment complex. Billy’s trying to come up with an excuse to stay after Steve’s given him his gift so they can pick up where they left off. He can’t think of anything particularly subtle or clever, so he just does the first thing that came to mind. Billy grabs Steve by the hips and pins him against his door. Steve drops his keys.

“Is this okay?”

Steve gets a finger in Billy’s belt loop and another in his back pocket. “More than okay.”

Billy crowds Steve and kisses him without mercy. Steve gasps into Billy’s mouth when he bites Steve’s bottom lip, licks his teeth. Steve gives as good as he gets. He’s kneading Billy’s ass something fierce and he’s grinding against Billy just right. It’s everything he’s wanted for months. It’s not enough. Billy drops to his knees, starts frantically undoing Steve’s belt.

“You-I-whoa, Billy,”

Billy looks up at Steve, bats his lashes. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, but-“ Billy pulls Steve’s jeans down a little so he can mouth at Steve’s cock through his boxers. “What about-holy _shit_ , what about your present?”

“Give it to me later. This can be my present.” Billy cups Steve’s balls through his underwear. Steve curses. “Don’t worry, it’s not too big.” He teases.

Steve grasps Billy’s wrists when his fingers hook into Steve’s underwear, pulls him up to standing. “As much as-as much as I’d _love_ to let you blow me,” Steve shimmies his jeans back up, buckles his belt. “You’re not gonna wanna do that tonight when you see what I’ve got you.”

“Steve, there isn’t a single thing on earth that I want right now more than your cock in my mouth."

Steve moans a little at that, screws his eyes shut and lets his head gently knock against the door. “Trust me on this one.” Steve takes a minute to collect himself before picking up his keys and unlocking the door. “This…this might be a little much.”

“It can’t have been more expensive than those tickets.”

“Oh, it definitely was. C’mon.” Steve opens the door, gestures for Billy to walk in first.

“Where am I going?”

“Straight down the hall, to your right. You can’t miss it.”

Billy follows the hallway, turns into Steve’s living room, feels his heart drop out his ass when he sees Max waiting for him.

“Max?”

“Billy!” Max bounds into him, wraps her arms tight around his neck. Billy holds her back, kisses the top of her head.

“What are you doing here, kid?”

“I’m your present,” She says as she pulls away. “You have no idea how hard it was to keep a secret.”

It’s been three months since Billy’s seen Max. Three months too long. He pulls her back in for a stifling embrace. “I missed you so much.”

Max burrows her head into Billy’s chest. “Missed you too, doofus.”

“So, it’s not too much?” Steve asks. Billy turns, still holding Max, doesn’t bother wiping away the tears in his eyes.

“Not at all. This is the best present I’ve ever gotten.”

…

Steve breathes the biggest sigh of relief in his entire life when Billy replies. Steve watches them hold each other for a moment before making himself scarce in the kitchen. Steve makes them all some tea and butters a couple crackers for snacks.

Max and Billy are talking on the couch when he re-enters the living room. “I made tea and crackers,” he says, placing the tray on the table. “You don’t have to eat or drink any of it if you don’t want to.”

“I’d murder for a cracker,” Max says, popping one whole into her mouth.

Billy’s looking at Steve like he hung the moon himself. “I can’t believe you did this,” He whispers. “I can’t think of how to thank you.”

“Actually saying thanks would be a pretty good place to start,” Max snarks. Billy flicks her on the shoulder.

Steve sits next to Billy. “I don’t want you to thank me.”

Billy pushes his tongue against the inside of his lower lip. “What do you want?”

“I want you to come to the concert with me.”

“I thought that was kind of implied when you give someone more than one ticket.”

“I didn’t wanna assume.”

Billy’s hand finds Steve's on the couch, interlaces their fingers. “Of course I’ll come with you.” Billy leans forward and plants a light kiss on Steve’s nose. Max squeals.

“You two are so cute!”

“Shut up, Max.” They say in tandem.

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to clarify re: Billy's 'cheat day' - I am not a supporter of diet culture and I'm well aware that concepts such as a cheat day foster a negative relationship with food and that's not something I want to encourage or give the impression I endorse. These characters are however flawed and struggle with all the shit we do.
> 
> That being said, thank you for reading!
> 
> [Tumblr](https://bry0psidawrites.tumblr.com) [Twitter](https://twitter.com/bryopsia)


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